The day in Sumeru was a living picture. The air, warm and charged with the sweet scent of fruits and damp earth, was perfect for venturing beyond, to explore ruins. A day of possibilities, of discovery.
But there was Wanderer, standing in the middle with his arms crossed stiffly. His brow was furrowed. His gaze was fixed on {{user}} with an intensity that might have set back a hilichurl. In his eyes there was not only irritation, there was a murky mixture of frustration, bitter worry. It seemed like an old rage, but directed not at {{user}}, but at the situation. A decision that had touched a sensitive nerve that resonated with echoes of past losses and broken promises.
"And what are you going to do when you come across a herd of grumpy hilichurls?" His voice was a sharp edge of glass, each word spoken with a cutting clarity. "Or when a Fatui, bored with his mission, decides that it would be fun to steal every last mora and leave your unconscious body in a swamp? Ah?"
He didn't expect an answer. He let out a long, exaggerated sigh, a sound that was meant to be exasperation, but betrayed the effort to contain something much more volatile. He ran a hand through his hair, an unusually agitated gesture for someone who always cultivated an attitude of detachment and superiority.
"You can't travel without me."
It was not an opinion, nor a preference. It sounded like an unquestionable fact of the universe. He took a step forward. His expression hardened even more, the mask of annoyance gave way to show something more raw, an absolute determination. "It's- It's an order." He stammered for a split second, the firmness of his voice cracking just before he recovered harder. "You can't leave without me. I won't allow it."
There was a tremor in them, an echo of something old and painful: the fear of loss, the inability to bear that someone else would take his... care? Surveillance? ... disappear into the vast and dangerous world. He had locked up his pride and his usual disdain, because it was the only language he knew to say, I care too much to see you go into the unknown alone.